


It's All Very Platonic Between Us

by doctorxdonna (badxwolfxrising)



Series: Earth Girls Are So Not Easy [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, UST, shotgun on the wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badxwolfxrising/pseuds/doctorxdonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wedding guest mistakes the Doctor and Donna for a couple in love, and he tries to explain otherwise to her. Maybe strangers see something the Doctor and Donna aren't willing to acknowledge... Can be read as a prequel to "In Fairness To Me, You're the One with the Fiery Hair".</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Very Platonic Between Us

“You two must be deeply in love.”

The Doctor shook his head and snapped out of his silent reverie. He had been staring at Donna as she walked across the room to the bar, thinking that they ought to do formal occasions like weddings more often, because the way her hips swayed in that dress and the way her bare neck looked with her hair all piled up and spilling out of that messy bun...

But they're just mates, he has to firmly remind himself. That was what they both had agreed they wanted. Even if she was ginger, with eyes like the ocean before a storm, milky white skin, full lips that looked oh so soft... He swallowed and turned to look at the source of the mysterious voice, an old woman leaning heavily on an even older looking knotty wooden cane.

“Hmm? What makes you say that?” the Doctor asked before he could think to stop himself. Maybe this isn't the sort of question that he's actually prepared to have answered, not when he really gets down to it.

“I know that look when I see it in a young man's eye. Pure adoration,” the woman said with a smile.

“Ah,” the Doctor replied, maybe a bit wistfully. “She's just a friend. A dear friend, but just a friend. I do adore her though, she's something else.”

“Oh, I see,” the woman sighed knowingly. “Unrequited love. She doesn't know how you feel, does she?”

He could see Donna at the bar now, taking drinks from the bartender. He only had maybe ninety seconds before she'd be back at the table.

“Uh, well it's all very Platonic between us, you see,” he babbled. “We love each other as friends. Really, really good friends.”

“So she doesn't know how you feel about her, not really,” the woman said again, this time making more of a statement than asking a question.

“Ah....well, no. Not as such, no,” the Doctor said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. Donna returned to the table, and set their drinks down.

“Bloody hell, you'd practically need to be the Queen of England to get an acknowledgment out of that wench at the bar, took forever just to get a lime soda and a cranberry and vodka,” Donna complained, sliding back into her seat.

The older woman gave the Doctor a meaningful look. “Life's too short,” she said, inclining her head at an oblivious Donna.

“Not for me, it isn't,” he whispered, but he knew the old woman had a point. His life might not be short, but Donna's was, quite comparatively. His eyes found their way back to her again, and he was once again overwhelmed by how lovely his companion looked that evening. The dark green halter dress she was wearing left her shoulders and back tantalizingly bare, and was cut low in the front, providing a generous view of her ample cleavage. Her brilliant red hair was swept back in a messy updo, and she was wearing delicate silver filigree earrings he had bought for her from a market stall in Barcelona (the Spanish city, not the planet). A single strand of black pearls decorated her throat, and absurdly, an image of himself kissing that same throat popped into his mind. He ejected the mental image with such guilty ferocity that he also nearly ejected himself from his chair, as well.

“What's your problem, spaz?” Donna asked, nudging him playfully in the side. “I think they're about to have their first dance, so you should probably stop thrashing around like a seizure victim. That's all we need, is one of them remembering that Cousin John never had epilepsy.”

“I'm fine, really, I'm fine,” he mumbled, shrugging it off. Donna raised her shoulders and eyebrows at him, but he said nothing more, instead lapsing back into his thoughts. He came up with a dozen different ways to tell Donna how gorgeous she looked without it sounding like a hopeless come on. Nothing rang quite true in his head, and he was becoming increasingly more despondent. Why did he care all of a sudden? It wasn't as though he could actually say something to her about it, she had made it pretty clear that she saw him as 'a long alien streak of nothing'. He might be her best mate, but he was pretty sure Donna didn't want anything else.

Well, actually he wasn't sure, and maybe that was the problem. Sometimes when they hugged, he would hold on a moment too long and instead of thrashing him she would just sigh contentedly and let him hold her. Other times, when they would run holding hands, she would let her fingers tickle his wrist in a gesture that felt surprisingly intimate. Then, when they had gone sunbathing on St. Thomas (per her request), he was quite sure he had seen her checking him out when he'd taken his shirt off and actually gone swimming in Magens Bay. He wasn't sure though if something were actually changing between the two of them, or if he was just imagining the things he wanted to see. Of which one of those things was her naked body, but he wasn't exactly going to tell her that, now was he?

“Come on, let's dance!” Donna said, pulling him to his feet. Now he was so nervous, he thought both hearts might burst their way out of his chest, but he let her take him by the hand and lead him to the dance floor. Arranging his arm around her waist, they began to tango, and the Doctor was not entirely surprised to find that Donna was an excellent dancer. The two of them moved across the floor together in perfect time, and when the song ended the Doctor swung her around and dipped her and for one solid moment their eyes locked and he though he could muster the courage to kiss her. But then, another couple jostled them and he nearly dropped her, breaking the spell of the moment. Luckily though he caught her rather than dropping her, and held her tightly against him, but it was no consolation for the missed moment he had truly wanted.

After their dance, the Doctor had another drink, but this time there was whiskey in his soda. He didn't often choose to get intoxicated, and could in fact stimulate the enzymes in his body so that he would be unaffected by alcohol, but tonight he felt like he needed something to take the edge off, especially after that dance. Donna's hair had fallen out of her bun now, and the impulse to tangle his fingers in it and pull her against him for a kiss was so strong, but still he held back, just drinking her in instead, memorizing the silhouette of her body in that dress.

It was getting late though, and he was feeling mostly sorry for himself, for a number of very good reasons that were almost entirely of his own doing. He subtly hinted to Donna that it might be time for them to leave the party, but she wasn't having it.

“I'm not leavin' before the bouquet toss, Buster,” she'd advised, just the slightest slur in her voice to tell him that she, too, was just a bit intoxicated.

“Fine. I'll be waiting for you in the console room, take your time,” he'd said wearily, heading towards the TARDIS. The garter hit him in the back of the head, but he pretended not to notice. He left the ballroom and went around the corner to the broom closet, where he'd parked the TARDIS. He hadn't been waiting long when Donna burst through the doors, a delighted grin on her face and a bunch of orchids and orange blossoms clutched above her head.

“Can you believe it? I actually caught the flippin' bouquet! I've got almost no hand-eye coordination to speak of when it comes to flying objects, but man, it was the perfect catch!” she exclaimed, oblivious to the look he was giving her.

“Good for you,” he said, trying to sound more interested in orchids than he actually felt.

“The garter hit you in the back of the head while you were walking away, you big dummy,” she said with a laugh.

“Donna?”

“Yes, Doc-” but she didn't get a chance to finish the sentence because he was pressing his lips against hers. He felt her go momentarily stiff with surprise, but then she relaxed a little bit and parted her lips. It felt...well, just sublime to kiss Donna Noble. It felt lovely, and perfect, and right.

Which made the slap of her open palm against the side of his face that much more shocking.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed, clapping a hand to his stinging cheek.

“What the hell did you go and do that for?” she asked, staring at him like he'd sprouted a second head.

“I..well...you caught the bouquet! And they threw the garter at me! I just though...I mean..you just looked so pretty that I had to kiss you!” he stammered.

“Just mates Doctor, remember?! You told me you just wanted a mate, and not in the procreatin' sense of the word!”

“I..yes, it's just...yes, yes, I remember,” he said wearily, deciding it better to acquiesce than to attempt at explaining his thought process to her.

“Could've fooled me, seems you need a little slap and a reminder. I'm going to go change, and then maybe we can watch one of those old musicals you like, if you promise not to try and feel me up,” Donna said, turning on her heel to leave the console room. She stopped to look over her shoulder at him though, a small smile playing out on her delicious-looking lips (which he now knew to taste like peaches and cream). “Oh, and Doctor?”

“Yes, Donna?” he asked.

“You're not so bad of a snog, actually.”

He tried to contain his grin until after she had walked out of the console room, but admittedly, it was difficult.


End file.
